


Sherlock Holmes Less Smart Younger Brother

by gatergirl79



Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Family Reunions, Post Season 4, mention of a fourth sibling, no Eurus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4171341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatergirl79/pseuds/gatergirl79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock head to MJN Air on a case and meets a very familiar face. How will Martin react to seeing Sherlock again</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Previously posted on DeviantART.  
> Update: 12/2/2017 - So I decided to go through this and hopefully I caught all the grammar/spelling mistakes, fingers crossed. I also made a couple of alterations from the original post, mostly concerning the Holmes family background, so that it fits as a post season 4 fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 12/2/2017. - I've revised this chapter and made some alterations, it now takes place post season 4 but in a world where Eurus doesn't exist and Sherringford is the fourth sibling.

**Chapter 1**

 

 “I still don’t understand why we’re taking this case Sherlock, you said yourself it wasn’t even a seven and you don’t leave the flat for anything less than an eight, so what changed?”

Anyone observing Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t see anything but the usual casual detachment of the world’s only consulting detective. John Watson wasn’t just anyone though, so he saw the small twitch in Sherlock’s jaw that usually meant only one thing. “Is this about Mycroft?”

“No." Sherlock quickly dismissed. "I’m just intrigued.”

John frowned; he knew a lie when he heard one, at least where his flat mate was concerned. “Intrigued? Really? hmmm. - A man dies an hour after getting off a chartered flight from Cork to York….” John smirked at the potential limerick. “…there was no one on the flight but him and the crew, seems pretty obvious to me…”

“That’s because…”

“I know, I’m an idiot.” John rolled his eyes.

Sherlock cast his friend a sideways glance. “I was going to say; not in possession of all the facts.”

“Facts? - What facts?” Feeling a little embarrassed at jumping to the wrong conclusion.

Sherlock didn’t enlightening him, he just turned back to typing on his phone.

“Lestrade says the police have already looked at the wife and business contact and they’re clean. So you think someone on the flight…?”

“ _No_!” Sherlock snapped a little too quickly, causing John’s brows to shoot to his hair line. “I - I mean we need to gather more data, that’s why I’m taking the case.”

“The case that’s intriguing even though it’s only a five and that only two hours ago you called boring.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Yes.”

“I see.” though he clearly didn’t.

Two hours ago Lestrade had called him asking for help with a puzzling case of the Cork business man, he’d stated that they had no cause of death, no suspects and no idea where to start. Sherlock had simply shrugged, grumbled on about how useless Scotland Yard was, but the case was too dull for him to waste his time on. Less than five minutes and a phone call later, Sherlock had marched back into the room and declared that they were off to solve the murder of J. McAvoy.

 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

The flight crew of MJN Air sat in the cabin running though the pre-flight checks while playing one of the word games they used to fend off boredom. This time it involved famous David’s and so far Douglas was winning. - Not that either he nor Martin was surprised. When suddenly the cabin door flew open and Arthur rushed in, his face glowing with excitement, Martin and Douglas exchanged looks.

“Arthur?” Martin frowned. “Why are you so chipper this morning?”

“As opposed to your usual down and depressed daily mood.” Douglas said sarcastically, causing Martin to laugh.

“Do you know who we’re flying today?” Arthur said bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like a five year old at a fun fair.

“I’m going to make a guess at - _people_.” Douglas replied flatly.

Martin fought back another laugh and turned his full attention to the flight attendant. “Ok, Arthur, who are we flying? You haven’t been this excited since…”

“Yesterday morning.” Douglas interrupted.

“It’s him. - I can’t believe we’re flying _him_. I hope he’s wearing the hat.”

Douglas signed. “Arthur as much as I’m used to your babbling round the bush I’m not really in the mood to try my hand at breaking the enigma code that is you, so can you just tell us in plain, simple English, if you're capable, who is on the passenger list?”

 Arthur grinned from ear to ear, straightening his back with pride before announcing the name. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“ _What_!” Martin gasped, body jolting as if hit with an electric shock.

“I know…It’s _brilliant_.”

“Who?” Douglas frowned; glancing between the beaming face of Arthur and Martin’s flush red one.

“Sherlock Holmes. Surely you’ve heard of him? He’s _famous_. - The Boffin of Baker Street. He’s a genius.”

“And doesn’t he know it.” Martin grumbled; turning in his seat to stare out at the tarmac in front of him.

“He solves crimes. Haven’t you heard of him? I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him. I have a scrapbook filled with his cases. I can’t wait to meet him. I’m going to get his autograph.”

“You’ll have more luck passing the test for your pilots’ license.” Martin snipped through gritted teeth.

 Douglas watched the captain with interest. He’d known Martin long enough now to know there was something up with him. “Where’s our tea Arthur?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry chaps.” The man swiftly turned and rushed out of the door still grinning like the cat that got the cream.

 “Alright Martin, what’s up?”

“Up? - N-nothing. Nothings up. What could possibly be up?” Martin laughed nervously, turning his attention to the controls.

“You can’t fool me, do you know this Sherlock Holmes fellow?”

Martin swallowed nervously, shaking his head a little too much. “No. No. Of course not.”

“ _Martin_?” Douglas pressed, drawing out the younger man’s name as if telling off a child.

 

Martin bowed his head and gave a resigned sigh. They were going to find out soon enough anyway, he may as well tell Douglas now. “I… - You could say we’re a-acquainted.”

Douglas narrowed his gaze, brow raised suspiciously. “Oh really. How?”

“He’s…” Martin swallowed. “He’s…”

“He’s _here!"_ yelled Arthur bursting back through the door and causing both men to jump out of their skin. “He’s here, he’s here! - Come see. You have to come see.”

Martin closed his eyes and sank down in his seat. “I’m fine here, thank you.”

“But you always meet the important passengers. - Mum insists on it.”

Sadly that was correct, and he knew if he didn't Carolyn would be in here dragging him out by the scruff of his shirt. With a groan Martin forced himself out of his chair, Douglas behind him, eyes burning into his back.

 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

John frowned up at the plane a little nervous. “I’m not sure that thing is safe.”

Sherlock scanned the metal bird. “It’s in full working order. - Though I doubt we’ll have a comfortable trip.”

John groaned as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder and followed Sherlock up the steps where they were met at the door by an older woman with white hair and a welcoming yet shocked face. John figured she was just one of Sherlock’s many fans, they’d made quite a name for themselves over the last few years.

Sherlock had two types of fan, the younger women and men who found him highly attractive and spent most of their time speculating on the relationship between the consulting detective and his live-in blogger. It was kind of embarrassing but after almost three years of being in Sherlock’s life, he’d given up caring unless it affected his love life.

The other type were the excited older set of Miss Marple-like ladies, who were interested in the cases. John figured the woman staring open mouthed at Sherlock was one of those.

 

Sherlock looked up at the woman who’d introduced herself as Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, he didn’t need to ask why she was gaping at him, the reason was strolling towards him. He heard John’s intake of breath and couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face. He did love surprising his friend. 

 

The two men stared at each other blandly, there was no visible emotion on Sherlock’s features while Martin looked tired, nervous and just a little bit irritated.

Carolyn cleared her throat, awkwardly. “Huh. May I introduce my crew, Captain Martin Creiff and….”

Sherlock nodded. “Martin.”

“ _Sherlock_.” the mirror image murmured, meeting the other man’s eyes reluctantly. 

 The others just watched them in amazed silence until Arthur announced as if no one else had noticed. “Wow. They look just like each other. - Well except for the hair. That’s _amazing_.”

“Thank you for stating the blindly obvious once again Arthur.” Douglas remarked, his gaze still locked on the two men in front of him.

Martin took a deep breath and turned to Douglas. “My First Officer Douglas Richardson.”

Sherlock looked the man up and down, taking in everything about him. “Divorced. Problem with alcohol but sober for 8 no 9 years. One child, daughter. Living in a single room bed-sit without a fridge and a broken boiler. - Suffers from kleptomania. - John, don’t let the laptop out of your sight.”

“Ohhh. That was _brilliant_!” Arthur grinned while Douglas looked like he was going to punch the smug shit.

“Ignore him Douglas.” Martin huffed, a hand on the man's shoulder, subtly holding him back.

“Sherlock, we’ve talked about this, _nice_ , remember.” John warned as he pushed past his friend.

“Highly unlikely.” Martin grumbled fixing a hard defensive glare on Sherlock.

“John Watson, hello.” he held out his hand.

Martin looked from the hand, to John, to Sherlock then back to the hand before finally shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

“John’s my friend.” Sherlock announced. “John, this is Martin. - My twin brother.”

 You could have parked the plane itself in the gaping space that was John Watson’s shocked open mouth. 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

 

“Your twin brother?” Douglas repeated for the fifth time since they’d returned to the cabin.

Martin didn’t reply any longer, he just set about contacting the tower to request permission to start this damn dreadful flight.

“Your twin brother?” Carolyn announced barging in to the cabin with Arthur on her heels.

“ _Brilliant_.”

Douglas turned to Arthur. “You said you’ve got scrapbooks?” Arthur nodded enthusiastically. “With photos?” Another nod. “And at no point did you think that it was at least noteworthy that your current hero looked like our good captain here?”

Arthur frowned as if considering his answer then shrugged. “They do have different hair.” he said as if that answered everything. “And different names.”

“Yes, why is that Martin?” asked Carolyn, her arms folded over her chest, her foot tapping out a rhythm on the cabin floor.

Martin shrugged. “I - I didn’t want to be linked to him.” it was only half a lie.

“Why?” the three asked in unison.

Martin remained silent for a long while, shrugging as he waited for a reply from the tower.

“Martin?” Douglas pressed.

“Look is it really any wonder?” he snapped, voice rising in volume and pitch. “You saw what he’s like. Arthur wasn’t exaggerating when he said he’s a genius and in case you haven’t noticed I…I’m _not_!”

Carolyn and Douglas exchanged subtle sympathetic looks.

“He solves crimes for fun, knows all kinds of things while I barely made it through university and failed to gain my pilots license, _seven times_.”

“So…" Carolyn said slowly, revising the new information and update his mental profiles of his friend. "Sherlock Holmes is your brother? So why do you call yourself Creiff?”

“I - It’s my grandmother’s maiden name?”

“Any other siblings hiding in the closest?” Douglas pressed.

“Wait we…we met you’re mother, and your brother and sister?” Carolyn frowned.

Martin sighed, slouching in the chair. “That was Mycroft’s doing. He…organized a fake family for situations like…” he waved his hand in the air.

“Mycroft?” Douglas asked, brow raised.

“My other brother.” Martin whispered almost apologetically. “I lied to you all, okay. I have three brothers, him…” he nodded towards the door. "A much older brother, Sherringford and Mycroft. My father was in the civil service and my mother was a mathematician.” he fell silent, staring at the runway, his fingers flexing in his lap. 

“But why lie?” Carolyn asked sounding a little hurt.

Martin turned sorrowful eyes on her. “Believe me, if you had to grow up with three pompous geniuses for brothers when you could barely figure out the square root of 15, you’d want to hide the fact to. - Being a Holmes was too much pressure to live up too. - Now can we just get on with this flight and get my brother off this plane so I can get back to my normal life?” 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

 

“Your twin brother?” John repeated for the fifth time since taking their seats. “You have a twin brother? - God save us.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, shifting comfortably in the chair.

“There was me thinking you were unique.” John laughed.

“I am. - Martin is…nothing like me.” Sherlock murmured almost regretfully.

“Meaning?” John frowned, his eyes locked on his friend.

“He’s an idiot.”

“Sherlock to you _everyone’s_ an idiot.” John sighed, shaking his head.

“We’ll he’s more so.” Sherlock replied stiffly, reading over the pre-flight information, bored of the conversation.

 John glared at his friend. “He’s your _brother_ Sherlock, the least you can be is nice about him, if not _to_ him.”

“Why?” Sherlock frowned.

“Because.” John sighed. “It’s just what people do. You don’t insult family in front of strangers.”

“You insult Harry in front of me all the time.” Sherlock pointed out smugly, watching John intensely.

“That’s different, you’re not a stranger.”

 Sherlock gave him a warm smile and John smiled back softly. "Anyway, why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“I didn’t tell you about Mycroft either.”

“That was different, Mycroft made himself _very_ known to me. - I told you about Harry.”

“I deduced Harry, you did not _tell_ me.”

“Fine.” John huffed fixing his gaze ahead of him. Sometimes he hated trying to argue with Sherlock. They were silent for a few moments before John finally spoke again, his curiosity getting the better of him. “So why is he calling himself Creiff?”

Sherlock shifted in his seat and John turned questioning narrow eyes on him. “Sherlock?”

“I don’t know, maybe he just didn’t want to be associated with us and decided to use my grandmother's name.”

John turned fully in his seat. “Sherlock?” he drew out.

“He…like I said he’s an idiot.”

“Sherlock Holmes, what did you do?” John demanded, tone harsh and accusing.

Sherlock met his friend gaze with a hurt frown. “Nothing.”

John didn’t believe him.

“It was Mycroft and...” Sherlock sighed. "...Sherringford."

John groaned. “What? Who's Sherringford?"

Sherlock looked away from John for a long moment. "My other brother." He muttered.

John stared, dumbfounded. "You have...three?"

Sherlock shrugged. “I don't know the details. Mycroft refused to tell me anything. From what I can gather, they made him sign a contract.”

John was still processing that there were two other members of the Holmes family he knew nothing about. Eventually through the words finally sank in. “What!” John gasped. “What kind of contract?”

“A gag order.” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.

John's eyes narrowed angrily. “Please tell me you’re kidding?”

Sherlock shook his head.

“Why?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“Sherlock!” John practically yelled. “He’s your brother, stop calling him an idiot.”

“It took him seven tries to get his pilot’s license, five for his drivers. He barely graduated university and while he was there he lost his team the chance to appear on University Challenge.”

“And for that you kick him out of the family?” John’s face was glowing red with anger. “Bloody hell, you and Mycroft never fail to amaze me.”

Sherlock smiled.

“It wasn’t a compliment this time Sherlock.” John snapped, turning around in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. “Sometimes Sherlock Holmes, I wonder why the hell I’m your friend.”

 

Sherlock looked at the furious face of his best friend and guilt clawed at his gut. He hadn’t really considered Martin’s feeling before, mostly because it was just easier to pretend he didn't exist. However since meeting John he’d begun to think about his baby brother a lot more, and with the mess involving Mary and Moriarty, with everything that happened to him in the last couple of months, his relapse, he'd come to realise that maybe his brothers treatment of Martin was wrong.

That's why he was taking a dull case that didn’t so much as intrigue him. He was here to make sure his brother wasn’t involved with murders and criminals; because deep down he still cared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remind, this story has been re-edited to fit the post season 4 universe. Eurus is not a Holmes sibling and Sherringford is.

John hadn’t said two words to him since take off and Sherlock had to admit it was beginning to get to him, although he was used to his friend's use of the silent treatment as a form of expressing his displeasure, at least he was still here. A cold shiver ran though Sherlock at the memory of the weeks John had ignored him after Mary's death. Sherlock glanced sidelong at John, watching him clinking away on his laptop, his jaw tight with frustration. It was hard to believe that a few years ago, the tactic wouldn't have bothered him in the least because he'd known it wouldn't last. Now however, it wasn't sure of anything, except he couldn't handle it. He opened his mouth to say something, break the silence with an apology, when he was interrupted.

 The distraction came in the form of the far too chipper flight attendant. “Can I get you anything Mr Holmes? Tea? Coffee?” He beamed.

Sherlock shook his head.

“Tea please.” John announced politely. When the man rushed off Sherlock heard John finger resuming their tapping. Three minutes later the man was back, cup in hand and smile the size of the Nile plastered on his face. “Thank you.” John nodded taking the beverage.

“Are you the only flight attendant?” Sherlock asked, deciding he’d better set his mind to the case, after all that’s why he’d come.

“Oh yes.” Arthur grinned with pride.

“So you were on this flight yesterday with Mr McAvoy?”

Arthur nodded.

“What did he do?”

“Do?” Arthur’s brows furrowed a little, though his smile was still set.

“Yes.” 

Arthur thought for a few moments. “Well, he sat there…” he pointed to the set of seats two rows down. “…read some papers, slept. - Um, that’s it really.”

Sherlock steepled his fingers under his nose. “Did he eat or drink anything?”

Arthur tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmmm, he had a packet of dry roasted peanuts and a bottle of water.”

“Anything else?” Sherlock frowned up at the man.

Arthur shook his head and Sherlock sighed, he’d been sure at least one of his theories would be correct.

“Why?” Arthur asked intrigued.

“He’s dead.” Sherlock said bluntly as his brain sorted through data.

“Really? - _Brilliant_.”

 

Sherlock and John both looked at him with wide eyes surprised. Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at the man's enthusiasm.

“No, I mean it’s not brilliant that he’s dead, that’s awful but it’s brilliant that you’re here to solve the case because you’re so cleaver.”

Sherlock gave him his of-course-I’m-cleaver smirk.

“Martin’s cleaver too.” Arthur announced hardly seeming to take a breath. “He knows everything about planes and stuff, but then he’s your brother so that makes sense. - There was one time when he made a bet with mum that he could stop Douglas from stealing this expensive bottle of Talisker whiskey. When it was opened it turned out not to be the whiskey and Martin investigated to figure who’d taken the whiskey because Douglas said it hadn’t been him. Martin figured out that I’d spilt the whiskey and was too scared to own up so I switched the bottles….”

 John grinned “So he solved the case? Not such an idiot after all.” he shot Sherlock that told-you-so look.

“Well, no, not really. He was wrong because it turned out Douglas had stolen it after all. Douglas is very cleaver too. - But it was _brilliant_ the way Martin figured it was me, he was just like Miss Marple.”

“Except he got it wrong.” Sherlock remarked flatly, glaring back at John.

Arthur sighed sadly. “Well, yes.”

“Well, thank you for your assistance, Arthur?”

The man nodded with yet another bright smile before turning to leave. 

 

 “Oh, oh, oh…” Arthur suddenly rushed back to them. “I just remembered, that man, Mr McAvoy, he had an orange.”

Sherlock lifted a brow. “An orange?”

“Yes.”

“You gave it to him?”

“Oh no, he had it with him.”

Sherlock gave that satisfied grin and pulled out his phone. “Thank you Arthur, that was most helpful.”

  

John gaped at the politeness of Sherlock’s gratitude, he'd been doing that a lot lately, being nice to people, it was disconcerting and yet, heart-warming. John watched him as he typed away on his phone, that familiar gleam in his eyes. He’d done it, solved the case. As Arthur rushed off like an excited child John told himself he wasn’t going to ask, he was still mad. He turned back to his computer and began to type again, biting at his lip, the curiosity was killing him, and going by the grin on his friends face, Sherlock knew it. 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

The atmosphere in the cabin was stifling. Martin refused to play word games, his grip on the controls had his knuckles turning white and he wouldn’t even rise to Douglas’s baiting. All in all, Douglas had decided this was the worst flight ever. - And that was really saying something. Arthur’s arrival did nothing to break the tension, no matter how chipper he was. At least until he informed them that the great Boffin of Baker Street; Sherlock Holmes was here investigating a case.

“Of course he is.” Martin grumbled. "It wasn’t like my big brother, who is only older by two minutes and four second by the way, would actually lower himself to visit the runt of the litter out of brotherly affection, is it?" he grumbled angrily under his breath.

“What kind of case.” Douglas asked, ignoring the younger man's muffled words.

“Don’t worry Douglas, he wouldn’t lower himself to investigate anything as average as smuggling or petty larceny. - It’s probably a murder.”

“Ooooohhh, _b_ _rilliant_ , you really are his brother.” Arthur grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet once again.

“Yes I am, much to my displeasure, and as such I know what an arrogant self-important sod he can be.”

“Family trait is it?” Douglas baited, hoping to break the tension in the small compartment but only receiving a glare from Martin instead.

“I am _nothing_ like my brothers, as I've been informed countless times.” He said with a little sadness in his tone that silenced Douglas completely.

 

After a moment of sulking, Martin quizzed Arthur. “So, who died?”

“Mr McAvoy.”

Both men’s heads snapped around.

“From yesterday’s flight?” Douglas gasped. “Does Carolyn know?”

Arthur shrugged.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did Sherlock ask you?” Martin pressed, suddenly so intrigued he twisted in his seat to stare at Arthur.

“Just what he did. What he ate and drank.”

Martin frowned. “What did you tell him?”

“Peanuts, water and an orange.” Arthur announced like he’d just solved the crime himself.

Martin turned back to gaze out over the horizon. “Peanut allergy?” he murmured.

“What?” Douglas frowned.

“Nothing.” Martin brushed off. "Stupid assumption." he shook his head "If Mr McAvoy had a peanut allergy he wouldn’t have eaten the peanuts, in the first place."

“What else did he say?” Douglas asked with interest, ripping his gaze from Martin to stare at Arthur.

“Oh nothing. He asked about the food and drink then got out his phone and started typing.”

Martin gave a loud heavy sigh, slouching uncharacteristically in his seat. “Clearly he solved the case.” he grumbled, glancing at his watch. “Thirty minutes, he’s getting slow.” he announced with a hint of smug joy.

 

"I told him about _your_ case.” Arthur announced.

Martin turned warily in his seat fixing the man with a hard stare. “My case? - _What_ case?”

“You know, The Case of the Stolen Whiskey.” Arthur said dramatically, adding a “ _buh, buh,_ _buh_.” at the end.

“Oh god, you didn’t. - _Please_ Arthur, tell me you _didn’t_.”

The man nodded, frowning slightly as Martin’s head dropped down with a painful moan.

 

The sound of the cabin door being opened drew their attention as Carolyn’s head peered around the edge. “Martin, Your…brother wants a word.”

With another painful groan the captain pushed himself reluctantly to his feet and made his way to the door.

“Martin, your hat.” Douglas said holding it out to the young captain.

With a deep sigh Martin shook his head and left the cabin as if he were being sent to the gallows.

 

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

John couldn’t hold onto it any longer, not talking to Sherlock was more a punishment to himself then to the detective. “Alright smart arse, who did it and how?”

Sherlock smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Not a clue.”

“Shut up Sherlock, I know you’ve figured it out, it obviously has something to do with the orange.”

“Obviously.”

“Well?”

“Yes thank you. Yourself?”

John gave a huff of frustration and slammed his laptop closed. “You’re such a bastard at times Sherlock.”

They fell into silence, both knowing that everything would be explained before they landed in Cork. Giving up on getting a straight answer out of Sherlock, John turned his attention to Martin. “Tell me something Sherlock; do you really hate your brother because he’s not as bright as you?”

Sherlock didn’t answer at first; he just stared ahead and pressed his lips together. “Of course not. - He’s my brother _and_ my twin.”

John smiled. “So there is a hint of humanity under there. I _was_ beginning to wonder.”

Sherlock sent his friend a side long glance.

“So why did you go along with this ridiculous gag order?” John asked, anger still tainting his voice. 

 

Sherlock shrugged. He really didn’t want to talk about it; it was the only thing he’d ever been ashamed of. Okay, maybe not the only thing, but...the first. The hardest to live with. He’d locked that small part of his conscience away where it couldn’t be touched along with all thoughts and feelings involving his twin brother. Though over the last few years Martin had become a constant dark presence at the back of his mind, mostly due to his friendship with John. After meeting John, Sherlock had come to see that he didn’t need to lock himself away from relationships in order to do his job. That Mycroft wasn't right about not caring. Caring hadn't made him weaker, he'd come to realised, it made his stronger. It heightened his senses. Made it easier to understand the world and thereby easier to do his job.  

But it had almost put those he cared about in danger. Moriarty's promise and Mary's arrival in his life had meant keeping Martin locked away and out of sight was more important than ever. Whether the man had known about Martin, he'd never know. The man's main focus had been on John.

"You don’t know?” John snapped, pulling Sherlock from his thoughts. “Really?”

“What would you like me to say John? I did not force Martin to sign those papers." he remind harshly, defensive. "It was his _own_ choice.”

“Did you try to stop him?" John asked, though his tone said he already knew what the answer was going to be.

Sherlock pressed his lips together once more and fought the guilt.

John groaned and slouched in his seat. “Sometimes Sherlock I think I know you better than anyone in the world, but at other times I swear you’re as much a stranger to me as when we met.”

There was a long painful silence before Sherlock could bring himself to reply. "Why do you think me and Mycroft don’t’ get on? - What do you think that so-called childish feud is about?” Sherlock snapped finally. "Why do you think I've never told you about Sherringford?"

John’s gaze shot to Sherlock with surprise.

“I was not happy at all with my brothers decision, and I did try to reason with them, but Mycroft said I was allowing my emotions to cloud my judgement. That it was better for Martin if he was given the means to live his own life away from the expectations of his family."

John’s jaw clenched tight. “And you went along with it?”

Sherlock lowered his gaze. “It was Martin’s decision, I respected it.”

“So you’ve spent how long ignoring his existence?”

Sherlock swallowed and answered under his breath.

“Pardon?” John demanded.

“Almost twenty years?”

“ _Twenty_!” John yelled.

“Shhh”

“You’ve ignored your twin brother for twenty years? - How the bloody hell can you do that Sherlock? I have trouble ignoring Harry after six weeks.”

Sherlock shrugged. “I never said it was easy John. I found...distractions.” he met his friends gaze meaningfully.

John was silent for a few moments, thinking. “Did you ever try to contract him?”

Silence

“So he’s spent twenty years as an outcast from his family and you, his twin brother, haven’t tried once to make contact?” John shook his head in disappointment at his friend. “Did it ever occur to you that he might not have realised that he’d lose _you_?”

Sherlock turned a frown to John. “What?”

“It was a gag order Sherlock, which meant that he couldn’t tell anyone he was a Holmes, not that he’d have to stop _being_ one. - I saw his face when he saw you, I may not be a great consulting detective but I know people emotionally better than you do and what I saw in his face was hurt and anger.”

Sherlock sat considering what John was saying. Did Martin really not understand what signing those papers had meant? Or was it himself that hadn’t understood?

“Where are you going?” John asked as Sherlock got to his feet.

“I think it’s time I talk to my brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Prior to season three I always assumed their mum was dead and their dad was a bit of an asshole, imagine my surprise when they turned out to be pretty cool. 
> 
>  I apologize for the spelling and grammar mistakes; I really am trying to do better. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, reviewing the previous chapters (I love reading reviews, it makes me very, very happy. I can’t help but smile when I see them in my inbox) and a special thanks if you’re one of those who has added this story to your favourites list. I’m very honoured, truly


	3. Chapter 3

The two men stood facing each other, mirroring the others stance with their hands in their trousers pockets.

“Why did you do it?” Sherlock demanded.

Martin swallowed nervously, shifting on his feet. “Do what? - If you think I had something to do with…?”

“The order.” Sherlock interrupted. “Why’d you sign it?”

Martin sighed with relief then shrugged. “Cause I knew I was an embarrassment.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “We’re all an embarrassment to Mycroft, even Sherringford, until he wants something.” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder to where John was sat then turned back to meet his brother’s hard blue gaze.

Martin fixed his older brother with a steely stare. “Not to Mycroft.” he said through gritted teeth. “When did I ever give a toss what _he_ thought? - I was an embarrassment to _you_. You’re my twin Sherlock; I knew how you hated having me around, how you felt embarrassed when people said I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, like it was stain on _your_ abilities.”

Sherlock stared wide eyed and swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. Martin had signed the papers because of him? Taking a breath he asked another question, the one John had pointed out to him. “Did you know it would cut you out of the family completely?”

Martin looked at his still shuffling feet. “Of course not, but well…you never took my calls, Mycroft made it quite clear he wanted me out of his life completely.” he shrugged. “Sherringford barely spared me a moments thought, ever. - I kept in touch with mummy and dad for a while until Mycroft contacted me and ordered me to stop. He said it was just upsetting them." Martin swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. "So I stopped going to see them, now I just send them the occasional birthday and Christmas card. I post it from….wherever I am, so it can’t be traced back to me.”

Sherlock just stared at Martin, trying to take in everything about his younger brother. He wasn’t eating properly despite the weight gain or maybe because of it, he was living in a flat-share with…students. He wasn’t being paid to do this job but was instead scrapping together a living driving a white van, one that rarely ran. It was a long way from a public school education and a house in the country. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest but it just wouldn’t be ignored. “Dammit Martin.” he snapped angrily. “You shouldn’t have let Mycroft…”

“What? Run me out of town?” he scoffed. “ _He_ didn’t.” he stared meaningfully.

Sherlock’s hands clenched into fists at his back, he couldn‘t believe he‘d just abandoned his brother, just turned his back on him. He‘d never failed to help Mycroft so why had he let Martin slip through his fingers so easily? - Because…he’d convinced himself that Martin hadn’t wanted to be part of their family. That Martin hated him like every other 'normal' person did. He'd convinced himself that his baby brother couldn’t stand to be around him because he'd signed those papers so easily, he’d walked away without so much as a word, and afterwards Sherlock had closed himself off from everyone, especially his family. He'd turned to narcotics and crime to ease the pain. Over the years he'd kept everyone at a distance, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and so many more.

Until John. Until John Watson had swept into his life and begun to tear down those walls, releasing him from the prison he hadn’t even realised he’d built around himself. - He glanced over to his friend, were the man pretending not to be watching them. “If I had…I wouldn’t have left you in this sort of state.” he glanced around at the plane. “I would have done something.” 

The younger Holmes looked at him disbelievingly, his face creased and turned red. _“This sort of state_? What the hell does that mean? I’ll have you know Sherlock that I’m perfectly happy with my life? I have a job I love and friends I trust. I have built a family for myself and while they can be well, infuriating and at times horrid; they’re just as good as the family I was born into. - And they actually _want_ me around.” Martin snapped angrily. 

Sherlock just watched his baby brother with understanding and shame. He’d built his own family too, with Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Molly. John and now little Rosie. - And despite everything that had transpired surrounding Moriarty and Mycroft's role in it, he was still very much in contact with Mycroft. “I’m glad you’ve found people who care for you Martin. - Really I am, and I’m sorry.” 

 

Martin’s mouth fell open. _Was Sherlock Holmes actually...apologizing?_

“I honestly didn’t consider your reasons, or maybe I didn’t want to. I should not have abandoned you the way I did. I shouldn’t have allowed Mycroft and Sherringford to push you aside like they did.” Sherlock swallowed. “I _have_ felt guilty about that.” he insisted.

 _Guilt? Now he was admitting to feeling guilty? Who was this man and what has he done with my brother?_ Martin thought.

“And for the record Martin, I was never ashamed of you. Frustrated, annoyed but _never_ ashamed.”

“B-but you always got so angry when someone pointed out how stupid I was.” Martin frowned.

Sherlock hung his head. “I was annoyed, but I was angrier at them for making you feel stupid. - And at myself for not being able to defend you. - But I promise you Martin I was _never_ ashamed of _you_.”

The Holmes twins just stood staring at each other in a strained silence. Both shocked at the revelations their little confrontation had brought. The silence felt like it dragged on for eternity until finally Sherlock spoke in an attempt to defuse the tension. “At least you got to fulfil your childhood dream and become a captain.” he smiled.

Martin grinned back. “Not exactly a pirate ship though.” he giggled as the brothers shared the private joke. “Though my second in command is a lot more trustworthy. _He_ hasn’t mutinied - _Yet_.”

“Well you deserved it, you just weren’t ruthless enough for a pirate.”

The pair burst into laughter that rang around the almost empty plane.

 Suddenly there was a jolt cause the two men to stumble. Martin grumbled under his breath, looking at the cabin door. “I - I should really get back in there.”

Sherlock nodded and raised his hand to his forehead. “Aye, Aye Captain.”

The pair were still laughing as they each took their individual seats.

 

“So, how’d it go?” John asked, having watched them with interest.

“Good. I think everything’s been settled. - I think we should go out when we get back to London.”

“That’s a good idea. - Clearly you two need to catch up.”

“You’re coming too.”

John opened his mouth to argue but knew it was pointless, Sherlock always got what he wanted, especially from him.

“And I intend to pay Mycroft a visit as soon as we land; I have a thing or two to say to him.” Sherlock announced though tightly clenched teeth, his tone seeping with anger and John didn’t envy the older Holmes one little bit.

 

_\--- **SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE** \---_

They landed in Cork and Carolyn was immediately informed by Sherlock that they could return to London as soon as the plane had been refuelled. As it turned out that took a good couple of hours. The time was spent in the airport restaurant, the small band sitting together exchanging small talk, Douglas and Carolyn insisting on filling Sherlock in on his brother's misadventures, like the rather amusing incident of the fake French pilot. Which Martin had insisted loudly was not his fault but Douglas‘. It hadn’t stopped the amusement seeping into Sherlock’s eyes.

“You never were any good at French, Martin. Shame it wasn’t Latin. Oh, no you weren’t any good at that either.” Sherlock teased, causing Martin to send him a death glare.

 The stories continued to be batted back and forth. Occasionally the table would wobble as John gave his friend a swift kick on the shin to shut him up.

“Not good?” Sherlock would frown.

John would send an apologetic look to the company. “No, not good at all.”

Martin watched the exchange with interest, wondering just what type of relationship his brother and Doctor Watson were in. Of course Douglas being the blatant no-nonsense man he was asked straight out and had received a rather irritated and a little forced reply insisting that they were just friends. John adding a comment about it being “Like a marriage at times, all the hassle none of the perks.”

Sherlock of course countered this remark with his own. “All you have to do is ask John?” which gained him another kick.

The friendly relaxed atmosphere continued while Arthur finally gave into excited curiosity and asked about the case. The only surprise was that it took the man so long. Sherlock sat back in his chair and fixed the table with a smug grin before delving into an explanation on how Mr. McAvoy had killed himself in a rather impressive and inventive way so as to insure an insurance pay-out.

While Arthur announced it was brilliant, Douglas and Carolyn looked on reluctantly impressed, Martin slouched down in his seat, a position mirrored slightly by Doctor Watson, and folded his arms over his chest listening to his brother, realising just how much he’d missed the arrogant sod and hoping that he would finally be able to reconnect with his illustrious family. - Even if he _was_ the less smart younger brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know bit of a sucky ending but to be honest it was all I could come up with but I hope it wasn’t too awful. Did you like the pirate thing? I couldn’t help myself, I just had to write it, with Sherlock wanting to be a pirate and Martin always wanting to be a captain, it just seemed fitting. Obviously like with Eurus, Victor doesn't exist in this universe and Sherlock 'Redbeard' was actually Martin. Probably because of his red hair. (can twins have different hair colour? Probably not, but well considering the crap they pulled in S4, I think Martin have red hair isn't such an issue, right? 
> 
> And I could totally see Sherlock making him walk the plank. LOL. I certainly liked writing this and it’s the first and probably only time I’ll write Mycroft as a terrible person, because I actually love Mycroft a little and he cares a great deal for Sherlock, so would probably be the same with Martin. 
> 
> I decided to keep Rosie, because well, I'm a sucker for Parentlock, sorry. 
> 
> Anyway, that’s it from me. Thank you all for reading, reviewing and faving and I hope to see you again soon. 
> 
> Keep Calm and Believe in Sherlock
> 
> Gatergirl79

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, what did you think? You guys are always so good at letting me know and I love you for that. 
> 
> Notes about the story: I’m sure you’ve already figured them out but both J. McAvoy and University Challenge are nods to Starter for 10 because I just love that film. Especially Ben’s part ‘cause the first time I watched it I wanted to hit the posh twat then Sherlock happened now I get upset when he does get punched. The Marple thing could also be considered a nod, though an unintentional one. 
> 
> Till next time. 
> 
> “Keep Calm and Believe In Sherlock”


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